With A Little Help ...
by Vickie211
Summary: Sometimes, no matter how independent we want to be, we find we must lean on others. It's Misty's turn. Please review.
1. Discovery

With A Little Help - Discovery

_Author's Note: This story is not related to any of my other stories in any way. I want to thank Cori Falls and Trish for their advice and encouragement. And a special thanks to Trish for her suggestions and for proofreading for me. As always, I appreciate any reviews and helpful comments._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon, but I do own the rights to this story._

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**With A Little Help ...**

**Chapter 1 - Discovery**

**by Vickie**

Misty Ketchum turned off the kitchen light, threw the dish towel into the laundry room as she passed by, and began to climb the stairs, along the way picking up a pair of sneakers, a baseball cap, a pink piece of something undoubtedly belonging to Barbie and/or friends, and a stuffed toy Charmander. The sneakers and baseball cap she deposited in Sammy's room, stopping to give her sleeping ten year-old son a tender kiss on his forehead. Named after Professor Oak, the boy had inherited his father's spiky black hair, and his mother's blue-green eyes. He would be leaving in a couple of months to begin his Pokemon journey, and she knew he would make his parents proud. "But oh, how I'm going to miss him," she whispered. 

Giving him an extra kiss for good measure, she left his room to go peek in on her daughter. Seven year-old Laurel, who looked like a miniature version of her grandmother Delia, had kicked the covers off as usual. Misty laid the pink whatever and the Charmander on the dresser, then turned and pulled the sheet and blanket back up to the little girl's chin. 'I really shouldn't have yelled at her so much,' Misty thought, a rush of guilt settling in her stomach. 'It was only a little mud on the carpet, and it was easy to clean. It didn't even leave a stain.' Leaning down to kiss her daughter's cheek, she promised herself that she would apologize first thing in the morning. 

She entered the master bedroom where her husband was lying in bed with his head propped up and his chin resting on his chest, a copy of _Indigo League Monthly_ standing open in front of his face. "Anything interesting?" she asked as she took off her shoes and tossed them into the closet. 

Ash answered from behind the magazine, "Yeah, the editorial is a jab at the people who don't want a new stadium built. It accuses them of being stuffy old codgers still living in the past and standing in the way of progress." 

Misty turned from the closet to find him looking at her over the top of his reading glasses. Even though he was only 39, he'd been using the glasses for a few months now, ever since he'd discovered his arm wasn't long enough to hold printed material at the correct distance for focusing. The glasses and a smattering of gray hair were his only concessions to aging. He still maintained the lean, muscular build that he'd had as a young man. "I thought you felt the same way," she chided him. 

He nodded, returning his attention to the article. "I do, but the editor doesn't have to be so rude about it." 

"That's true," she said as she went into the adjoining bathroom, where she brushed her teeth and washed her face, applying a small dollop of moisturizer to her nose and forehead while her skin was still damp. She concluded her bedtime ritual by brushing her hair till her scalp tingled. No gray was visible among the bright-orange, shoulder-length strands, and except for a few extra pounds that were the result of bearing two children, she was still blessed with a figure that could turn heads. Returning to the bedroom, she retrieved a nightgown from her dresser drawer. 

"Did you talk to James today?" she questioned Ash as she peeled off her socks and threw them onto the chair in the corner of the room. 

"Uh-huh," he grunted, casually flipping through several pages of the periodical in his hands. 

Misty watched his face, waiting for further exposition on the subject. When none came, she continued, "Did he say anything about Rose?" 

He raised his eyes to hers. "No. Why? What's up with Rose?" 

"Well, Jessie's really worried," she went on, taking off her jeans and folding them somewhat carelessly, then laying them across the chair with her socks. "That guy Rose is head over heels for seems to be a real low-life. Jessie thinks he drinks, and she's afraid he may even be on drugs. She's terrified that Rose is going to marry him, now that she's eighteen." 

Ash narrowed his eyes. "Come to think of it, James did make some comment about the stubbornness of females. But I just assumed he was talking about Jessie." 

"Very funny," Misty said, her sarcastic tone accompanied by a brief glare. Her expression turned melancholy, and she shook her head. "I'm just glad Laurel is still little. I'm not ready to deal with being the parent of a rebellious teenage daughter." 

"You will be by the time it happens," he stated with confidence, before returning once more to his magazine. 

"I hope so," she muttered, remembering the fear in Jessie's voice. She pulled her shirt off over her head and, noting the fatigue in her shoulders, stretched her fingertips toward the ceiling, trying to banish at least a couple of the kinks in her muscles. Taking off her bra, she rubbed the places where the torturous garment had bitten into her skin. Boy, was she glad this day was over! She had been ... wait a minute, what was that? 

She ran her fingertips back over the upper outside part of her right breast. Was something there? No, of course not. She pressed all around the area. Well, maybe it was a bump of sorts. Probably just the usual irregularities common to breast tissue. She padded her fingers over her entire breast to prove this to herself. But the bump was only in one place and was about the size of a large grape. 

She walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed beside her husband. He laid the magazine aside and wiggled his eyebrows at his wife when he saw her lack of attire. 

"Behave!" she said sternly. She took his hand and placed his fingers on the spot on her breast. "Ash, do you feel anything here?" 

Giving her a quizzical look, he moved his fingers in little circles, using just a bit of pressure. He frowned and placed his other hand underneath her breast to provide stability and pressed a little harder on the top. "Yeah, there's definitely something there. Is it unusual?" 

"I don't know! You probably feel them more than I do!" 

He glanced up at her. "Don't you do those regular exam things?" 

She blushed a little. "Well, I do when I think of it ... but no, not regularly like I should." 

He looked at the place covered by his fingers, then moved them and peered through his glasses, trying to see if he could see any swelling. "I think you should give Dr. Grant a call," he said, referring to her OB/GYN. 

"I guess so." She stood and pulled her nightgown on, flipping off the lights, and sliding into bed. Scooting her back up against Ash's chest, she felt him put his arm around her and tuck her in even closer. Unable to close her eyes, she stared at the nightlight beside the bed. "I'll call her next week." Her voice was almost a whisper. 

Ash lifted his head. "You'll call her tomorrow." 

"But ... " 

"Tomorrow." His tone indicated he would accept no dissent. 

Misty sighed, "Alright." She didn't know where she was going to find the time, though. Tomorrow morning, both of the kids had swimming lessons, after which she had to run by the ballet studio to sign Laurel up for auditions for _Raggedy Ann and Andy_, pick up clothes from the dry cleaners, do the grocery shopping, and ... wasn't there something else? If so, she hoped it was written in her planner. A sudden stray thought made her speak up, "Ash, don't tell anybody, please?" 

"Why not?" 

"Because this is most likely nothing to worry about, and I'd just rather no one knew." 

He squeezed her a bit tighter. "Okay, I won't say anything." Then he kissed the back of her head and said, "G'night. Love you." 

"Love you, too." She closed her eyes resolutely, but it was a long time before sleep finally came. 

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_To be continued ..._


	2. First Step

With A Little Help - First Step

_Author's Note: Thanks to all those who reviewed the first chapter. I apologize for the short length of this chapter - it just worked out that way. Again, thanks to Trish for proofreading. And as always, I appreciate any reviews and helpful comments._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon, but I do own the rights to this story._

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**With A Little Help ...**

**Chapter 2 - First Step**

**by Vickie**

At Ash's insistence, Misty had called her OB/GYN the very next day after finding the … whatever it was. But she couldn't get an appointment until the next week, and then when the time arrived, she'd had to be rescheduled for another week because Dr. Grant was delivering a baby. 'It's no big deal, though,' she told herself. 'It's probably just a cyst. Women have them all the time.' And she had been so busy that she hadn't even had time to worry about it. Really, she hadn't. 

Now here she sat in the examination room, stripped to the waist, wearing a paper gown that 'opens in the front', and browsing through a copy of _Southern Living_. 'How did such a magazine wind up in this part of the world?' she wondered. It was an elegant magazine, and the pictures of magnolia trees, wide porches, and cool desserts held her attention. While she was trying to decide if a camellia bush would survive in her yard, the door opened and Dr. Livvie Grant walked in accompanied by a young nurse. 

"Hi, Misty. How are the kids?" Dr. Grant smiled and sat on the wheeled stool in the corner. She was an attractive black woman, with a slender, athletic build, and a pleasant, if not slightly mischievous, twinkle in her eyes. 

"Almost grown," Misty answered with obvious parental pride. "Sammy leaves on his Pokemon journey in just a little over a month, and Laurel is starting 2nd grade this fall." 

Dr. Grant raised her eyebrows. "Thanks a lot! You're really making me feel old." She had delivered both of the Ketchum children, and had been Misty's physician for several years before that. 

Misty laughed. "Hey, it happens to all of us eventually!" 

The doctor laughed too, then focused on the chart in her hand. "So, Misty, you found a lump in your breast?" 

Misty shrugged, "Well, something, anyway." 

"Lay back and let's take a look." Dr. Grant opened the paper gown. "Your right breast?" 

"Yes." 

She began a careful and thorough examination. When she reached the upper, outer portion, she paused. "Here?" 

Misty nodded and studiously avoided making eye contact with her or the nurse, afraid of what she might see revealed on either one of their faces. Remembering to breathe seemed to be taking an inordinate amount of effort. 

Dr. Grant finished checking both breasts before returning her concentrated attention to the lump. At last, she ceased the poking and prodding that was beginning to be a bit painful, closed the paper gown and helped Misty sit up, then said, "Okay, let's schedule you for a mammogram and an ultrasound and see what they show." 

Finally finding the courage to look at the physician's face, Misty realized she needn't have worried, because Dr. Grant's expression showed only the same warmth and friendliness that had been there earlier. 

"Amy will get everything set up for you," the doctor continued, pointing to the nurse. "Then I'll give you a call just as soon as we get the results back." 

"Alright," Misty replied. "How long do you think that'll be?" 

"We should be able to get you in for the tests tomorrow, and I would expect to be able to call you the day after." Dr. Grant moved to the door. "Check with Amy on your way out. I'll talk to you in a couple of days." 

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_To be continued ..._


	3. Results

With A Little Help - Results

_Author's Note: Thanks to all those who've been reviewing. I really appreciate it. The usual thanks to Trish for proofreading. And as always, I appreciate any reviews and helpful comments._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon, but I do own the rights to this story._

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**With A Little Help ...**

**Chapter 3 - Results**

**by Vickie**

"Mom! I'm going to the Gym!" 

From the laundry room, Misty heard the front door slam. Dropping a dark blue sweatshirt into the washer, she smiled at the enthusiasm Sammy was showing toward Pokemon training. If Ash had been even half as prepared for his journey, he might've won the Indigo League that first time and become a master much sooner than he had. And she certainly wasn't biased just because Sammy was her son. After all, he had the combined genes of a Grand Master and a Water Master. Of course he would do well. 

She picked up a pair of her daughter's jeans. Laurel was spending the day with her best friend, Catherine Oak, who was Gary's only child and the same age as Laurel. The Oaks lived just three houses down, and the two girls had been practically inseparable since they were babies. Misty groaned as she put her hand in the left front pocket and realized it was full of ... stuff. She fished out a 3-inch piece of twine, a squashed maple leaf, a piece of a stick, the cap to a soda bottle, three acorns, and a rock. 

She turned the pocket inside out over the trash can to dump out more dirt than could possibly have come from the rock and acorns. What did Laurel do anyway, pick it up by the handful and jam it into her pocket? At least the other one was empty. The phone began to ring as she placed the jeans in the washer. Not even bothering to look for the cordless, which she knew she would never find in time, she raced to the living room and picked up the phone by the sofa, settling wearily onto the cushion to take advantage of the interruption. "Hello?" 

"Misty, this is Dr. Harris." 

In an instant, Misty's mind raced back over the events of the last few weeks. She'd had the mammogram and ultrasound - the OB/GYN's office had indeed been able to get the tests scheduled for the next day after her visit - but she'd had to wait three days for the results. Not that the results told her anything. All Dr. Grant had said was that there was a 'large mass' and she wanted Misty to see a surgeon for a biopsy. Her office had set up the appointment with Dr. Harris and it had taken another two weeks to get in to see him. 

Dr. Harris had been confident that the mass was a fluid-filled cyst, so he had used a syringe to try and aspirate it, but he'd had no luck. There was no fluid to be drawn off. He had then done what he called a needle biopsy, which involved the use of a gun-like device that, when triggered, shot some kind of needle into her breast and extracted a tissue sample. Even though she'd been given a local anesthetic, the procedure had been rather painful and had actually left a bruise. The surgeon had told her he expected the biopsy report in a couple of days, and that he would call her. He'd also stated his optimism that, despite the lack of fluid, the lump was still nothing serious. Well, it was the optimism of an answer in two days that had been misplaced. It had been a week and a day now. Did everything dealing with the health profession always take so long? 

"I apologize for the delay in getting back to you." 

The doctor's voice jerked Misty's attention back to the present. "Well, I was beginning to wonder about it," she responded with an uneasy chuckle. 

"I'm really sorry, Misty," he continued. "But I don't have good news." 

The words hung in the air for only a moment before instinct caused Misty to put her emotions on hold and her behavior on autopilot. "Okay," she prompted so calmly she might as well have been discussing a fund-raiser for the PTA. 

"The lump is malignant and is called a mucinous carcinoma." Dr. Harris somehow managed to pour both sympathy and a professional distance into his tone. How did doctors do that, Misty wondered? Was it a course they took in medical school? 

"There is one good thing," he went on. "This particular type of tumor tends to grow quite large before it spreads, so we have a pretty good chance that you found it early enough." 

"Okay," she repeated. 

"I'd like to talk to both you and your husband as soon as possible. I won't be in the office this afternoon, but what about 9:00 tomorrow morning?" 

"Okay." It seemed to be the only word she was capable of uttering. 

"Good," Dr. Harris said. "I'll see you then." 

"Thank you for calling," Misty replied politely out of habit. 

Replacing the receiver slowly, she stared unseeing out the window. The idea crossed her mind that she should be hysterical right now. 'Why don't I feel anything? At the very least I should be crying.' But no tears fell, and she found herself making a mental list of details that needed to be handled. She reached for the phone again and began to dial. 

"Pallet Gym, this is Elaine." The cheery voice belonged to the teenage girl who was working in the Gym office for the summer. 

"Hi, Elaine. It's Misty. I need to talk to Ash." Her words came out sounding calm and rational. 'Just like normal,' she thought. She didn't sound like someone whose reality had just been altered. And that really was the case - it didn't feel as if she had changed, but that the world around her had slid off its axis. What was she ... ? 

"Misty? Are you still there?" 

Misty blinked. "Oh ... yeah, I'm here ... uh ... I'm sorry, what were you saying?" 

Elaine sighed. "I said Ash is battling somebody right now. Do you want me to have him ... oh, wait. Here he comes now ... Ash! Ash! Phone for you! It's Misty!" 

Misty had to move the phone away from her ear a bit. Well, nobody ever said Elaine wasn't an enthusiastic employee. At a more normal volume, she heard the teenager say, "Misty, I'm gonna transfer you to his office." 

"Thanks, Elaine." She heard the phone ring only once on the other end before Ash picked up. 

"Hey, Myst. What's up?" 

Now her heart was pounding. Why couldn't she have kept that numbness just a little longer? Her mouth had gone dry and she couldn't seem to find any words at all, much less ones that would make this any easier. 

"Myst?" 

"Ah ... " she croaked. Clearing her throat, she tried again. "Ash? ... um ... Dr. Harris just called." 

Ash was silent for a few moments. "What did he say?" 

Misty swallowed. "It ... it was ... malignant." 

"No." He barely breathed the word. 

God, she hated scaring him this way. She hurried to explain what the doctor had said about the type of tumor and the likelihood that she had found it early enough. She could tell this eased his fears a bit, but she could still hear the worry in his tone when he said he was coming straight home. She started to tell him not to do that - she was afraid she would fall apart if he did - but she knew he needed to be with her right now. 

"What about Sammy? He's on his way to the Gym so you can help him with the new Paras you gave him." 

"I'll get Brad to work with him," Ash replied, referring to one of his assistant trainers, "and then bring him home this evening." He paused. "Are you going to be alright until I get there?" 

She forced a smile. "I'll be fine." 

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_To be continued ..._


	4. Facing Facts

With A Little Help - Facing Facts

_Author's Note: A big thanks to all those who've reviewed. It means so much to me. Sorry I'm taking so long with this. I had to do my taxes, and now we have band concerts and competitions and dance recitals coming up. But I'll try not to leave you hanging for too long. The usual thanks to Trish for proofreading. And as always, I appreciate any reviews and helpful comments._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon, but I do own the rights to this story._

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**With A Little Help ...**

**Chapter 4 - Facing Facts**

**by Vickie**

The smell of freshly brewed coffee pulled Misty from a deep sleep to a pleasant state of drifting where the only sensations that mattered were the softness of a down-filled pillow, the comfortable support of a mattress, and the smooth, cool touch of fine cotton sheets. She started to roll onto her right side, but stopped abruptly as pain brought reality intruding on the peaceful contentment of moments before. 

She opened her eyes and came fully awake, memory presenting her with an explanation for the pain. Surgery. She had come home from the hospital just yesterday after undergoing a lumpectomy and the removal of thirteen lymph nodes. It was hard to believe it was only a little over a week ago that Dr. Harris had called to inform her that the lump she had discovered was malignant. The information she'd had to absorb and the details she'd had to deal with since then had become the entire focus of her world. 

She had been given choices regarding surgery and follow-up treatment. Dr. Harris had laid out all the options the day she and Ash had gone to see him. She could have a lumpectomy, which involved removal of the lump and a small amount of surrounding tissue, followed by radiation therapy. Or she could have a mastectomy, which meant the removal of her entire breast. No other treatment was necessary in this case, but this option came with its own set of choices as to breast reconstruction. She could have reconstruction done immediately, she could wait and have it done later, or if she wanted, she could opt not to have it done at all. And then there were different methods of reconstruction to consider. 

It had all been so overwhelming - too much information with too little time to think about it. She had felt like she was caught up in a flood, being propelled along at breakneck speed by forces over which she had no control. But Ash had been strong for her. He had taken over and taken care of her when it seemed her own thinking capabilities had deserted her. He had been relentless in questioning the doctors, gathering statistics, organizing the information and making sure she understood all of it, and helping her weigh all the options. 

Misty had taken several days to make her decision, often deciding on one course of action and being certain that it was the right choice, only to change her mind a couple of hours later. Ash hadn't pressured her, but he had encouraged her to have the mastectomy. He said he didn't care if she didn't have a breast, he just didn't want to lose her, and he felt a mastectomy would give her the best chance for survival. This was her feeling too, but, ultimately, after research on survival statistics showed no difference, she had chosen the lumpectomy. The removal of the lymph nodes was necessary to see if the cancer had spread. 

And now the news was good. No cancer whatsoever was found in any of the lymph nodes. The pathologist had found that one of the margins surrounding the tumor wasn't completely clear, but she had been assured that this was just a few stray cells, and that an increase in the dosage of radiation was all that was needed to take care of it. 

Sometime in the last few days she had come to terms with the dreaded C-word. She had avoided it at first, tiptoeing around it on the theory that if she didn't say it, it wasn't real. When she'd called Jessie and later, her sisters, she would only say that she'd found a lump and it was malignant. Now she could say it - 'I have breast cancer'. Yes, it was just semantics, but it had been a tough hurdle. 

She had received an amazing amount of support from friends and family, not all of it just good wishes and prayers, although there had been plenty of those too. Delia Ketchum, Jessie, and Gary's wife Debra had taken care of the children, and had also handled meals and housework. And James and Gary had been there for Ash, as well, helping out at the gym so that he could spend his time with Misty, and also lending sympathetic ears when he needed to talk. 

The frenetic pace had slowed down now. The radiation treatment wouldn't begin for several weeks, the time being necessary to allow Misty's surgical incisions to heal. She could finally relax, reflect, take a figurative breath, and take charge of her life once more. 

She hadn't asked 'Why me?' although she very well could have. She had read all about the various factors believed to increase a woman's risk of breast cancer, and only a couple of them applied to her - she had waited till she was almost thirty to have her first child, and she was taking birth control pills. Or at least she had been up until the surgery. It seemed her cancer was the type that grows faster when exposed to estrogen, which put an immediate halt to that form of contraception. As for the other risk factors, she had no family history of the disease, she didn't start menstruating at an early age, she had no history of non-cancerous breast disease, and she was young. Well … relatively young. Statistics said that only 5% of breast cancer cases involved women under the age of 40, and she wouldn't be 40 until … today. 

A wave of sadness rushed over Misty at the realization that today was her birthday. "Yay, me," she muttered, allowing herself a brief indulgence in self-pity. This was not how she had envisioned celebrating turning 40. Recovering from surgery was not enjoyable under any circumstances, and it definitely took the fun out of a birthday. 

"Sammy! Let me in front!" A shouted whisper, if there is such a thing, came from the stairs. 

"No way, Laurel! I'm going first!" 

"Shhh! Quiet, you two! This is supposed to be a surprise!" 

Misty grinned at the sound of her husband's voice, which was just as loud as the two children he was trying to quiet. Quickly, she closed her eyes and tried to relax her face into the natural pose of someone still asleep. 

"Happy Birthday!!" 

Misty opened her eyes and smiled as Sammy and Laurel came into the room, each carrying a gaily wrapped package. Ash followed them, one hand behind his back, his eyes twinkling at Misty. "What's all this?" She asked in feigned surprise as she used her left arm to raise herself to a sitting position. 

"It's your birthday, Mommy!" Laurel shouted, pushing past Sammy and rushing over to the bed. 

"It is?! I forgot all about it!" 

Sammy snorted and rolled his eyes to show his mother he saw through her charade. He came to the side of the bed, kissed her cheek and placed his present beside her. "Happy Birthday, Mom." 

Misty started to pick up the large square package, but realized it was too heavy for her in her current condition. She wasn't supposed to do any lifting with her right arm for quite a while. So she left the gift laying beside her and began ripping the paper to reveal a leather-bound set of the_ Lord of the Rings_ trilogy. "Oh, Sammy!" she exclaimed. "Thank you so much! It's my absolute favorite!" 

"I know. That's what Dad said," Sammy replied with a grin. 

She ran her fingers lovingly over the books, then gave her son a kiss and a hug. 

"Open mine now, Mommy! Open mine!" Laurel set her package in her mother's hands. 

This one was smaller than Sammy's package, but was still rather heavy, so Misty laid it in her lap and tore off the paper. Laurel's gift was a tabletop fountain set in a bowl full of tumbling stones, with places for small potted plants. "Laurel, I love it! I've been wanting one just like this. Thank you, sweetie!" She hugged the little girl and then kissed her forehead. 

"Now you, Daddy!" Laurel grabbed Ash's hand and pulled him over to the bed. 

Ash produced a beautiful bouquet of pink roses from behind his back. Presenting them to his wife, he said softly, "Happy Birthday, Sweetheart." 

She accepted them, bringing them to her nose and inhaling the delicate fragrance. She looked up at her husband and said in an equally soft voice, "Thank you, Ash. They're lovely." 

"You're welcome," he replied, then picked up the set of books on the bed and handed them to Sammy. "Set these on the dresser, Sammy, please?" He gave Laurel the box containing the fountain. "Put this over there too, Baby." He sat down on the side of the bed as the two children placed the gifts on the dresser. "Alright, now scram." He smiled at them with tenderness, jerking a thumb toward the bedroom door. "And shut the door on your way out." 

The kids raced out of the room, laughing as they closed the door. 

"And don't fight!!" Ash yelled. He turned back to Misty and grinned as he pulled a long, narrow black box from his shirt pocket. "You didn't think the flowers were all I got you, did you?" 

She returned the grin, rather cheekily. "Well, maybe I was hoping for a little more." She took the box he held out to her, holding her breath as she opened it as slowly as she could. Laying on a bed of velvet was the most exquisite bracelet she had ever seen. Brilliant oval-cut sapphires alternating with round diamond solitaires were mounted in a magnificent platinum setting. "Oh, Ash!" she gasped. "I've never seen anything like it! It's ... well, it's just ... I can't even think of a word! It's so incredible! Thank you!" 

Ash took the bracelet from the box and fastened it around her wrist, kissing the pulse on the inside of her wrist when he was done. Keeping her hand by his face, he looked into her eyes, his heart evident in his gaze. He leaned over and kissed her, keeping his lips on hers as he whispered, "I love you, Myst." 

Caressing his cheek, she kissed him as well, and also whispered against his lips, "I love you, too, Ash." 

He drew away and stared out the window for a minute, then turned back to her as he spoke. "Misty, I want to talk to you about something." 

She drew her eyebrows together at the seriousness in his voice, but just said, "Alright." 

Ash took a deep breath and took both her hands in his. "I want you to get a second opinion on your radiation treatment." He placed a finger against her lips as she started to speak. "Please, hear me out. I'm really concerned about this margin that isn't clear. What the doctors said about just increasing the amount of radiation doesn't fit with the things I've read about." 

She looked knowingly at him. "You already have something in mind, don't you?" 

"Yes," he acknowledged. "There's an interdisciplinary breast cancer clinic at University Hospital in Viridian City. Since they're a teaching hospital, they're on the leading edge of all the latest research and technology. You'd have a whole team of doctors making sure this is the right thing to do. I want you to go. Will you do this for me? Please?" 

She sat unmoving for a few moments, then nodded her head. "Okay." 

He smiled and got to his feet, giving her a quick kiss on top of her head. "I'll go make the appointment right now." He left the room, intent on his mission, leaving Misty staring out the window with the uneasy feeling that her troubles had only begun. 

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_To be continued ..._


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